Complication

Chronicles of the Uprising

Part 2

K.A. Salidas

Narrowly escaping death at the hands of the Magistrate, Mira travels west, toward the coast. With three weakened human fugitives accompanying her, she searches for the mythical land of Sanctuary.

After encountering a pack of wolf shifters, headed by the charismatic—and brazen—Stryker, Mira learns that Sanctuary is real after all. Caldera Grove: home of the Otherkin. Hidden in the mouth of a dormant volcano, it has protected its residents from humans since the early days following the great cataclysm. For Mira— a vampire— Caldera Grove is a land of peace; an escape from the relentless persecution of the humans who once enslaved her, and an end to the daily struggle and bloodshed of being a gladiator.

For the humans accompanying her, Caldera Grove means death. Humans, greedy and untrustworthy creatures, are destroyed before they can penetrate its borders.

To plead her case for entry into Caldera, Mira must abandon her companions, albeit temporarily, and follow Stryker into the heart of the city. What she finds within Caldera Grove presents her with an unenviable decision between her own desires for freedom and peace, or honor and the human companions who risked it all for her.

The coppery tang of blood led Mira to the cave. Cloying and thick, the scent of it was so strong it actually sickened her. Too much had been spilled. Death was close. Surely, someone had to be dead. Muddy crimson streaks made a trail up the side of the mountain toward their cave. She knew it was going to be bad, but nothing could have prepared her for the grim scene she found when she arrived.

Of the eight pack members, only three remained standing; Stryker, Rob, and Terrance. Two more were half-shifted back into their human forms, bleeding and groaning on the ground. Three other wolves were very clearly dead, lying motionless in a bloody pile against a far wall.

Mira opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Three dead. She recognized Samuel, the young, eager-to-please wolf, among the dead. Just hours ago, they had all been alive and joking about what to do when Mira became a resident of Caldera Grove; and now, because of the humans, they were dead. Sadness and anger fought within her to be the controlling emotion. Those soldiers, those humans, deserved more than death. The wolves had done nothing to them, and here they lay slaughtered for being in the way. For being what they were.

“What happened with the tanks?” Lucian asked. His voice barely broke through her silent inner rage. She almost snarled at him, a human, but stopped herself when she caught sight of his face. Dirty and coated in blood, he’d apparently been through quite the ordeal himself, although he didn’t appear injured.

She spotted Sarah, tending to one of the injured wolves, wrapping her shawl around his broken leg. Curtis stood like a guard next to her, watching the wolf’s every motion. None of her humans were injured, of that she was thankful, but rage still bubbled inside of her. Damned Iron Gate humans and their incessant need to kill and destroy anything different from themselves!

Rob and Terrance were both tending to one injured wolf, who looked far better than the other, but still had blood matting up his creamy colored fur. Between the whimpering and yelping, Mira barely registered the man speaking to her.

“Mira, did you hear me?” Lucian asked again. “Are you okay?”

Fine. She was, but what did that matter with all the death around? Mira snarled inwardly. It took all the control she had to speak without letting the anger taint her voice. “Two tanks are disabled, but you were right, there’s a third somewhere still in the forest. My guess is it will be here soon. When I left, it was calling for a report.”

Hands fisted into tight balls, she took a few breaths. The three dead wolves were all she could focus on. Their blood called out to her, not to feed on, but to seek revenge for. Three completely unnecessary deaths.

Stryker approached slowly, cautiously holding his hands out where Mira could see them. “Are you okay? You’re trembling.”

She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the three dead wolves. “Yes, trembling with rage, and I hope to be able to exercise that feeling on the third tank, if it shows up.”

About the Author:

Endowed with special powers and abilities, beyond those of mortal women, I can get the munchkin off to gymnastics, cheerleading, Girl Scouts, and swim lessons. I can put hot food on the table for dinner while assisting with homework, baths, and bedtime… And, I still find time to keep the hubby happy (nudge nudge wink wink). I can do all of this and still have time to write my novels.

Sorry… I can’t even write that with a straight face.

Lies all lies.

Here’s the reality. I’m a sleep-deprived, overworked, mom who just doesn’t know the meaning of the word balance. I try so hard to do it all, (be super mom, wife, & author) and at the end of the day I fall face forward into the couch.

Yes, you read that right, I tend to sleep on the couch. It’s a point of frustration for my hubby and a thing of comedy for my daughter. Imagine waking up to your little child yelling, “Mom slept on the couch again!!!”

Because being supermom (or trying to) means a lot of time devoted to family, writing is often done when said family is peacefully snoozing away. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve fallen asleep with my laptop, on the couch. It just happens. Then, bright and early at 7am either my hubby (on his way to work) or my daughter (getting ready for school) wakes me up.

Writing is my passion. It’s a part of me. More than just a hobby, it’s a compulsion. I have to do it. If I don’t do at least one writing related thing each day I get cranky.